


Aim for the Heart

by manamune



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, Lamb Lance, M/M, Mutual Pining, Power Dynamics, Wolf Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manamune/pseuds/manamune
Summary: Everyone knows how the story goes: wolf chases lamb, wolf catches lamb, wolf eats lamb.It’s just Keith’s luck that it doesn’t turn out that way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by [@chan_lewd](https://twitter.com/chan_lewd)'s Wolf!Keith and Lamb!Lance AU except... obviously, this fic kind of ran away from me and became a beast of its own. Enjoy!

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one chasing you?” Keith barked, claws slipping out from his nails—sharp, deadly, and very ready to rip a person’s throat out. _A person_ being Lance, who was teetering on his heels behind him, shit-eating grin spread from one end of his face to the other.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lance asked, swiftly dodging Keith’s angry swipe at him.

“You know what I think?” Keith said, taking his losses and stalking away faster. “I think you should go away.” His tail swished in between his legs, annoyed and uncontrolled. His skin crawled when Lance pressed his palm to Keith’s lower back, right above where the base of his tail was.

“Hmm,” Lance hummed when Keith stilled. A single falter and Lance was right beside him, so close that Keith could see the flush of his ears, the only sign that he was as nervous as Keith was. After all, Keith _should_ be able to murder him in two seconds flat. If only he wasn’t so weak. “I don’t think you really think that.”

His clothes felt too tight with Lance’s hand inching along his waist, those long, spidery fingers going to curl around his hip bones. Lance’s front was flushed right against Keith’s back, giving him perfect access to nip at Keith’s ear, and all Keith could think was how unfair this was and how it was supposed to be _him_ cornering Lance. Not the other way around.

“Lance,” Keith warned, his tail hitting Lance’s leg sharply. Lance’s ears twitched in surprise, but he responded with another bite to the lower part of Keith’s ear, above his jawline.

The worst part was, after years of this stupid cat and mouse game, Lance could read him like a book while Keith was still two steps behind. Emotions had never been his strong suit. Keith missed the good old days where it was him sitting above Lance in trees, flicking twigs onto the forest ground to make him trip and riling him up.

Now, it seemed like every time he tried to get a jab back at Lance, it ended up like this: one of them pressing the other against a wall. Which, in turn, usually ended up with them on the dirty floor, tearing each other’s clothes off.

Keith shivered when Lance wrapped his fingers around Keith’s wrist tightly, tugging him along. “Come on,” he said, ears twitching backwards.

Keith steeled himself as Lance dragged him down the path, his worn shoes kicking away the rocks that were in their way. Lance’s home was a tiny little thing, tucked into an alcove hidden behind a mass of trees and bushes. Keith had hid behind these bushes more times than he could count, ready to jump out at Lance. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t; lately, it’d been the latter a lot more.

Lance kept one eye on him as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and gesturing for Keith to come in. He desperately wanted to plant his feet on the ground and prove to Lance that he wasn’t going to be played like this, but then Lance licked his lips and Keith felt his knees go so weak he had no choice but to stumble inside and fall onto the couch.

Part of the problem was the slow and steady reversal of their roles. Lance was, all things considered, a very nice person. He was friends with pretty much everyone, including Keith most of the time; an impressive track record considering Keith could count all of his friends on his hands. Lance was kind, never missing a beat to help someone, and yet at the same time he was playful and arrogant to a fault. The tricks he used to get Keith onto his level were nothing short of dirty at times; and Keith fell for them without fault.

He sucked in a breath when Lance climbed over him, both hands trailing down Keith’s chest, eyes surveying him lazily like a hunter who caught their prey. (Ignoring how Lance was, by all means, _Keith_ ’s catch).

To anyone else, Lance would smell like the flowers he decorated his home with and the fruit he picked to sell to the nearby village. And he did, however, Keith’s nose was powerful and their proximity was enough to let him sense what was deeper; cinnamon and wood flooded his senses, and he sighed without thinking, relaxing into Lance’s hands.

“You alright there?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. He smelled divine, like home and warmth and everything that Keith didn’t have in his own house. His dark eyebrows twisted further when Keith didn’t answer, and he patted Keith’s cheek lightly, prompting him to answer.

“Yeah,” Keith swallowed. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Lance said, satisfied, the worry easing from his face. “Good boy, I should say.” That reckless grin returned, igniting the flame back into Keith’s veins, albeit weaker, more sated with Lance’s fingers running up and down his bare skin, underneath his shirt.

Lance’s eyes were trained on him as he peeled his ugly wool shirt off. It was too hot, impractical, and not appealing in the slightest, though Keith thought there was nothing that could make Lance completely unattractive. Objectively, Keith could say that Lance was unwaveringly handsome.

Keith was surrounded by attractive people. Lance being hot wasn’t the problem. Keith’s best friend was the most sought-after bachelor in their area; he was used to being drowned in beauty. The problem was Lance being _Lance_.

The strength in Lance’s grip when he forced Keith’s arms up didn’t surprise him anymore. Lance wouldn’t have gotten to this point without knowing how to be rough and use his own strength to counter Keith’s. One hand held his wrists together and the other tugged incessantly at Keith’s own shirt until it was halfway up his arms, exposing his bare chest to the open air.

“Off,” Lance ordered. Keith squirmed until Lance could pull his shirt off and over his head; the fabric brushed past his ears, already sensitive, and he bit his lip. Lance chucked both of their shirts onto the floor, taking little care to keep his home tidy.

Keith’s pulse jumped abruptly when Lance began to roam over his chest. First, over his stomach, lips pressing against his belly button and sucking at the soft flesh there, and then to his nipples, flushed pink. Lance’s hot breath made him jerk, hips bucking against Lance’s crotch.

“Bad dog,” Lance smirked. Keith opened his mouth to protest that he was a wolf, not some kind of trained house pet, but he was cut off when Lance’s tongue poked out from between his pink lips and swiped at one of his nipples. Slowly, like he had all the time in the world, like Keith wasn’t already dying to get Lance’s hands all over him and not just on his upper body.

“I—I’m not—Ah,” he tried, and Lance either rewarded him or punished him for speaking by biting down. Keith couldn’t tell what Lance’s agenda was anymore. His teeth weren’t nearly as sharp as Keith’s own, and it made the tug on his chest flicker between what was painful and pleasurable.

Lance turned his attention to the other side of his chest now, coaxing the other nipple into his mouth and latching onto it, giving it softer treatment. Keith shut his eyes and allowed his head to fall back. After a moment, Lance’s hand flew to his hair, brushing back his fringe and making his forehead fever-hot.

As if sensing his steadily rising desperation, Lance pulled Keith up, onto his lap. Keith hated this position; _he_ had been the first one to tug Lance onto _his_ lap, the first time they’d met, and now it was Lance pushing him around like a rag doll. Lance had come into his life and stolen all of the things that Keith was so sure of about himself away from him. His confidence wilted around Lance, in a way that felt so nice he only became angry at himself after it was all over.

“You’re overthinking things,” Lance said, rubbing behind Keith’s ears. They were larger than the average wolf’s, and a fair bit more sensitive. Lance took it all in stride, twisting one of the things Keith that would normally make Keith uncomfortable and turning it into something that left him moaning, chest heaving. “Stop that.”

“Stop ordering me around,” Keith said, the words coming out airy and choked as Lance dug his fingers into the back of his ears, nails pricking his scalp.

“Stop making me order you around,” Lance countered. The unspoken request: submit. But no matter how further down Keith fell into this rabbit hole, he would never allow himself to submit to Lance. It wouldn’t be fair, first of all; Lance clearly wasn’t going to submit to him, so why did he have to submit to Lance?

But, also, it would be admitting the fact that Lance had a grasp over Keith that no one else did. And that brought along a whole slew of other implications that Keith wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“Make me,” Keith spat.

Lance eyebrows lifted, noting the intentional challenge in Keith’s voice. He gripped Keith’s hair and tugged his head back sharply, as if to say, _is that how it is_?

Lance’s lips fell onto his neck, and suddenly, his teeth felt infinitely less delicate when they were digging into the thin skin that spread over the most powerless part of his body. He was ruthless in marking Keith, payback for all the times that Keith had sent him into town with his neck covered in wolf bites.

It’s practically an attack on Keith’s neck at this point. Saliva dripped out of Lance’s mouth as he cornered every part of Keith he could get to, sinking deeper and deeper until there was a pretty array of bruises on him. Lance suckled on adam’s apple and Keith’s breath caught in his throat, stunted from the sensation of having the air ripped out of him. Keith’s hands grasped for purchase at Lance’s chest, sliding along the smooth planes of his stomach to try and catch hold of any semblance of mind as his vision blurred. When Lance pulled away, he found himself wishing for _more_ , praying that Lance would continue, despite how dizzy he was.

“Such a good boy,” Lance praised, pressing his index finger to one of the freshly-made marks. Keith twitched under him, pain appearing sharp where Lance pushed. “Was that enough for you?” He laughed.

Bristling, Keith rushed forward, covering Lance’s mouth with his own. The other boy stopped, his hand slipping from Keith’s neck for a moment, surprised, before it settled on Keith’s waist. Lance’s mouth was wet and as hot as a furnace, enticing Keith to press harder, until Lance’s tongue was swiping across his own, pulling out a moan from Keith that was muffled by Lance’s hungry lips. Keith sunk his sharp teeth down onto Lance’s lower lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“Fuck,” Lance swore, pulling back. Lance shoved him back onto the couch and Keith barely managed to stop himself from yelping. “Turn over.”

Keith didn’t move, legs feeling like jelly from the heat that was rapidly consuming his body. Lance wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his arm. Some of it dripped over his chin and he lapped it up with his tongue, narrowing his eyes at Keith.

“Turn over,” Lance said again. He grabbed Keith’s legs and pulled them upwards so that he could palm Keith’s ass. The feeling that spread over him, inching every way over his body from the base of his spine, was indescribable. It wasn’t so much Lance’s actual touch so much as the thought of Lance flipping over him and driving into him.

A lamb, taking control of a wolf, fucking him in a home made of flowers and straw. The irony in that was palpable.

Keith scrambled to obey, not because he was anywhere close to submission but because the promise of Lance inside him was too tantalizing. His cock was flush against his thigh, attempting to poke through his jeans, and he felt Lance’s own erection brush over his leg as he shifted to cover Keith’s body.

Lance pulled at the clasp on Keith’s belt until it came undone. Keith’s hands urged to help him, but the idea of moving now seemed impossible, with Lance over him completely. The belt fell off, and then Lance was taking off his pants and boxers, releasing his cock. The air over his chest had nothing on the way his cock felt when it hit the chill in Lance’s house. Keith squeezed his eyes shut, lips parting, throat clenching as he tried to hold back his moan.

He heard Lance spit on his hand, and then that same hand was on Keith’s cock, pumping him wildly and out of tune. Keith shoved back against Lance, hopelessly attempting to urge him to go faster. Lance’s hand wasn’t wet so much as damp, and the friction of Lance’s rough palm on his tender skin made him delirious.

He held onto the edges of the couch, a whine tearing from his lips when Lance squeezed him hard. He licked his lips, blinking back tears, and Lance pulled his hand back, satisfied.

“There we go,” Lance purred. Keith glanced over his shoulder as best as he could through his mess of sweaty hair and fluttering eyelashes. The image of Lance—Lance, whose fur was literally as white as snow—towering over him, a cut on his lip and his skin slick, was one that would be etched into Keith’s mind forever.

“Lance,” Keith said breathlessly, shell-shocked by how stunning he looked over Keith. Like he was meant to be there.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Lance answered, instantly breaking whatever sense of peace Keith had, reminding him of who exactly he was with.

“Don’t call me that,” Keith muttered, turning his head away. Lance laughed and petted his ears again; at the same time, he pulled off his own pants, dropping the rest of his wool get-up to his knees. He pressed his cock against the curve of Keith’s ass, not near his hole but near enough that he couldn’t think of anything else to snap at Lance, lest he end up moaning by accident.

“Why not?” Lance asked, sounding genuinely curious. Keith shook his head and hid his face in his arms, shoving back onto Lance’s cock. “Jesus,” Lance gasped.

“Come on,” Keith said. “Stop wasting time.” His cock leaked against his leg, pre-cum splattering over his inner thighs.

Lance conceded immediately and Keith felt a sense of pride knowing that he still had some semblance of control over Lance, though it wasn’t one that he’d set out to have. Lance’s hand scrambled to grab the oil on the table beside the couch and he slicked his fingers with it generously. Keith could smell it, even when his nose was covered, and he spread his legs wider, ready.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Lance said in awe. His index finger prodded at Keith’s hole and it slipped inside with relative ease; the walls of Keith’s hole clenched down on him and he sighed. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

Keith rocked his hips onto Lance’s finger. It slipped further and further, until Lance’s knuckle was pressed to his skin. “You aren’t—you aren’t even inside, really,” Keith stuttered, only talking back for the sake of it. There were very few things in life he wanted more than to have Lance inside him _right now_. Lance slid in another finger, and then twisted them, gently stroking his walls to urge him open.

“Not what I meant,” Lance mumbled. He pressed Keith flush onto the couch, his cock rubbing onto the rough fabric, and nosed against Keith’s hair. Keith could feel Lance quiver as he shoved in a third, and hopefully final, finger.

“What did you—” Keith started, but his words escalated into a cry when Lance pulled his fingers out almost completely, and then thrust them in two times as harshly. Pain flickered around his hole bringing tears to his eyes, but it was the kind of pain that made his cock leak and his heart jump. The good kind; the kind that made him melt into Lance’s touch over his stomach, holding him close.

“Good boys get treats,” Lance said. “Are you going to be a good dog? Oops, wait. I mean wolf.”

Keith laughed fervently at Lance’s mistake. Only he would lose track of something that was so ingrained into their very beings it was the only thing that most people saw when they looked at them. His mouth watered when Lance’s fingers left him, for real this time, a mantra of _fuck me fuck me fuck me_ resounding loud in his brain.

“Please,” Keith whispered, barely louder than the sound of a pin dropping. His tail wrapped around Lance’s leg urgently, trying to bring him closer, close enough that his cock would slip into Keith.

Lance stroked his tail absently, watching the way Keith’s shoulders shook in anticipation. “Please what?”

 _Don’t make me say it_ , Keith thought. What little resolve he had left was steadily breaking. Begging to be fucked wasn’t the same thing as submitting, not in the way that either of them understood it, but the idea of begging Lance for _anything_ didn’t settle well in him.

On a regular day, that was. Lance pulled open Keith’s hole with his thumbs and the words left him before he could even think about it. “ _Fuck me_ , Lance, fuck me, please, please—”

“Okay, okay,” Lance said, shushing him. He turned Keith’s head with a hand to his jaw and kissed him lightly. “Thank you,” he murmured against his lips, a praise for Keith’s compliance, and that alone almost made it worth it.

Lance rubbed the oil onto his cock and then, holding onto Keith’s hips, pushed into him in one thrust. Tears pricked Keith’s eyes and his head fell back against the arm of the couch, his whole body shuddering with a mixture of delight and satiation. His hole, thoroughly stretched, felt small with Lance’s cock inside, splitting him open.

Once he was fully seated inside Keith, Lance bent over, his cockhead nudging at Keith’s prostate. Keith sobbed. Any embarrassment he’d had over making noises was the furthest thing from the front of his mind when Lance thrust lightly.

No matter how many times they did this—in any way, in any position, in any place—he would always revel in the feeling of Lance folding him over and driving into him. It felt lewd and indecent, and as much as the villagers thought Keith was salacious, Lance was by far the more filthy one between them. He spread the excess oil over the rim of Keith’s hole, and Keith could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke.

“Submit,” Lance said, one finger teasing the edge, as if he was going to shove in his finger along with his cock. The worst part was that Keith would let him if he wanted to; he’d let this moronic, kind-hearted, foolish, charming lamb do anything to him at this point, including stuffing him with a cock and a fist. The pleasing burn and the look in Lance’s eyes when he was filled would make any pain ebb away.

“I _can’t_ ,” Keith choked, and Lance clicked his tongue, disappointed. Shame filled Keith’s gut and Lance moved his hand from his ass to his back, holding him still as he began to thrust into Keith, his cock filling every bit of Keith possible.

There was a lot more to it than the fact that their relationship was unusual in terms of dynamics and speciation. Lance bit angrily the back of his neck: a place traditionally reserved for mating, and Keith howled, nails tearing at the couch.

“Stop thinking,” Lance growled, and Keith didn’t even know that lambs could make that noise until now.

Lance fucked into him wildly, releasing his neck, hands roaming and scratching over every part of Keith’s body he could reach. He would be getting looks of concern tomorrow; it’s not often that Lance gets this riled up and leaves him looking like he got attacked by a bear. The mark on the back of his neck throbbed, and all he could do was let Lance fill him up and take him home, to the place where Keith had no choice but to not think.

Lance’s thrusts grew harder and faster, until he grabbed at Keith and turned him over. Lance’s cock slipped back into him within moments, and like this, Keith had no choice but to stare right at him. Lance lifted his hips, pulling him down onto his cock in tune with his own movements, and then he buried himself so deep that Keith screamed, covering his mouth with his arm so that it wouldn’t resound throughout the whole forest.

Already spurred on from everything else, Keith came first, beads of white spraying over his stomach and dripping down his thighs. Lance’s thrusts slowed and he watched, wide-eyed and transfixed, at Keith; his face, contorted, lashes fluttering, mouth opening and closing in a prayer for Lance’s cock.

“Good boy,” Lance murmured, fucking him through it. The phrase hung off his lips more sweetly than the other times he’d said it, like it was an _affectionate_ praise rather than a mocking one. Keith braced himself on one arm to kiss Lance, thrumming with satisfaction, clenching down on Lance’s cock.

Lance groaned and surged into Keith, emptying himself into the heat of Keith’s body. Cum seeped out of his ass when Lance pulled out, soft cock nudging Keith’s thigh. Their lips parted and Lance looked at him, completely spent and winded beyond words.

Lance smeared the cum on Keith’s chest onto his hand, dipping his fingers into the liquid and then pressing it to Keith’s lips. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth, letting Lance spread it over his tongue.

“Only I get to see you like this,” Lance said. “The big, bad wolf, wrecked and ruined.”

Keith nodded and Lance hummed in approval. His hand left Keith’s mouth and he wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, holding him close. Keith’s eyes felt heavy, like there were bricks over them, weighing him down. It would be bad for him to fall asleep at Lance’s house, though; if anyone visited Lance in the morning they’d find Keith there as well, and that wouldn’t be good for either of them. There was a reason why they could only do this at night when everyone else was tucked into their own respective homes.

“Pass me my clothes,” Keith said hoarsely, prodding Lance’s arm.

Lance stilled, and then his arms around Keith tightened. “Stay here tonight?”

“Lance,” Keith warned. “We can’t—”

“You don’t need to ‘submit’,” Lance said, tracing circles onto his slick stomach. “You don’t need to do anything. It’s just a game, yeah? We can stay the same, if that’s what you want, just—just stay here, please. Until the morning.”

Keith sighed and turned over, burying his face into Lance’s chest. His ears brushed over Lance’s chin, shuddering underneath the uncertainty of his feelings.

“Okay,” he murmured. Lance’s arms moved upwards to clutch onto Keith’s shoulders, his fingers dragging through Keith’s hair, stroking his ears. They flattened against his head, relaxed.

“Thank you,” Lance said.

Keith was already asleep.

-

No one ever told Keith about the part where the wolf and lamb fell in love and didn’t know how to break away from the story planned out for them.

He slipped out of Lance’s arms and used Lance’s shower to finger himself open, pulling Lance’s cum out from his ass. By the time he dried off his hair and put on his clothes, Lance was already awake, wearing clothes that were significantly less obnoxious than his usual get-up.

“Hey,” Lance greeted. “Sleep well?” He sipped on his coffee, eyeing Keith from his stool by his kitchen island.

Keith looked for his key on the table and, after finding it, shoved it deep into his pocket. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going home now.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

Lance set down his mug and walked over. Carefully, giving Keith ample time to step back if he wanted, he cupped Keith’s cheeks in his hands.

“You don’t have to,” he said hurriedly, anxiously; and then, more firmly, “You can stay. If you want. We can have breakfast together. I don’t have meat, but we can go into the village to get some and then bring it back. It’ll be nice and quiet here.”

“We can’t do this,” Keith said. The words felt empty to his own ears.

“We can,” Lance shot back instantly. “Maybe other people can’t, but we aren’t other people. We can.” As if sensing his restlessness, Lance’s hands fell to his shoulders. “We can take it slow. Breakfast, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Last night it was _just_ sleeping,” Keith muttered.

“One new thing a day. Today’s a new day,” Lance pointed out.

Keith looked at the floor. His tail was wrapped around calf, hiding in between his legs, like he wanted to shrink in on himself. He hated feeling so open and vulnerable. To anyone, not simply Lance.

“You don’t need to do anything,” Lance repeated. “But I—”

“Alright,” Keith said, cutting him off. If he had to listen to any more of Lance begging him to stay and be domestic, he was going to spill out thoughts that he didn’t want anyone to hear. _I like you. I think I love you. Every time you’re near me, my heart jumps. Every time we fuck, I think I’m going to die._ “Breakfast. One day at a time.”

Lance grinned, planting a kiss to his cheek. His happiness was so bright that Keith found himself smiling too.

It was ridiculous; this shouldn’t be happening, it shouldn’t even be possible. And yet, Keith felt nothing _but_ happiness when they ventured towards the village together.

Come to think of it, Keith had never heard the real ending of the story before.

He hoped that this was it.

**Author's Note:**

> i was 3k away from finishing the next crossroads chapter when i thought, hey, what if instead of finishing this, i started something new? and then this happened.
> 
> my girlfriend made a very inspiring comment about this fic: "if keith wore lance's jacket in this au, he really would be a wolf in sheep's clothing." 
> 
> i love unexpected power dynamics so this was super fun for me to write. i'm thinking of adding something else to this au that's a little more domestic/focused on their relationship. we'll see!
> 
> please let me know if you enjoyed this fic by commenting below or msging me! i'd love to hear ;o;
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


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